Blah Blah Blah
by Goodbye Mr WoIf
Summary: This will consist of a series of unrelated Spring Awakening mini-fics ranging from 500-1000 words, that I don't have the heart to just make a whole new story out of. The first chapter will contain summaries and ratings for each story. Enjoy!
1. Introduction

1.

**Introduction**

Hey everyone! Okay, so most of my random writings happen in my classes, and most end up being about one or two pages long…not long enough for a full story, but good enough to be on here nonetheless! So enjoy my random writings…none of them are related (besides being about Spring Awakening), and most are short, yes, but I think they're fun little reads.

I'll keep a synopsis/rating list down below so you can know what you're getting into before you read!

P.S.-Let me know if you like this style, or if you'd prefer it if everything was just it's own seperate story! Good idea? Bad idea?

P.P.S.-I was thinking of starting a new story-style, one that would collaborate with other authors on this site. I think it would be fun to have each person write perspectives of different characters, about the same situations. Kind of one big super-story, if anyone is interested in this, let me know, please!

2.

**High For You**

Ilse's been tortured for too long with the death of her best friend, her love. The time is now, it's her turn to go.

(_Teen+, deals with death and suicide_)

3.

**Come Down**

The day that Wendla is missing from school is a day that Ilse, Thea, Anna and Martha will never forget.

(_G, no strong themes)_

4.

**Like You Have A Clue**

If Moritz can't save her, no one can.

_(G, no strong themes)_

_5._

**Everything You Do**

The past is still with them, even now.

_(G, no strong themes)_

_(note: I don't own anything Spring Awakening related!)_


	2. High For You

Ilse's face was dark, sullen, sunken. It may have been the way the moonlight lit her face that made her angles sharper, or the glow of her single candle that made the shadows harsher. But either way, the place she sat held all the darkness in the world to her. Her knees were drawn up to her chin, and a girlish gaze that stared into the night replaced her womanly charm. Ilse did not cry. She was never good at that, no emotions, she told herself, unless it was one of real, pure joy. That was one that she could never hold in, but one she had not felt in too long. A year ago, her life changed. One year older, one year without him, one year to get over it to move on. It was not that easy.

The bakery in town, the same place Ilse would catch him behind some nights, his face streaky and red. The house she used to play in when she was young, the street they all had lived on. So warm in the Summer, brutally frigid in the Winter. All these places brought back painfully happy memories, sometimes vivid flashbacks that brought her to her hands and knees in the middle of the town.

Those flashbacks had grown increasingly stronger, more realistic. Ilse could smell him, reach out and ruffle his unruly hair, but in an instant, he would be gone. And she would go back to reality on the ground, people chattering about her as they passed.

Ilse jolted, hugging her knees closer to her body as she felt all sense of her body leaving her. Her eyes grew dark, and slowly faded into dusk. She was running, in her head her feet made no sound as they traveled swiftly over the brush. A glint of light. She stopped in her tracks. Ahead of her was her childhood friend. Her adolescent love. The boy she admired. He started, and she ran to him, coming just short of grabbing him into a massive hug. Instead, she extended her hand. He stared at her, and shook his head. Ilse felt a stabbing pain as she opened her eyes once again to the similar scene, minus a few details. He was perfect, just the way she remembered him.

This spot. This exact area. In fact, there was a sick hole in the tree behind her. Ilse liked to believe that the hole held a bullet. She craned her head to gaze at the tree. A little piece of him lay inside that tree. The boy, who at such a young age, she fell in love with. And he ll never know. She turned her head away and raked her hands through her hair, standing up quickly, her breath building. Ilse was dressed inappropriately for the season, she wore a powder-blue romper, feet bare. She was, in a nutshell, a mess. As she paced the area, Ilse stumbled and tripped over a clump of wildflowers. With a cry of sorrow, she reached down and scooped up the flowers, throwing them crudely on the ground. She collapsed once again, a downward spiral, her head spinning.

It was Springtime, three years ago. And Ilse sat cross-legged in a beautiful meadow, threading a crown of purple wildflowers together. The crown was too big for her head, so she leaned forward, and put it on his. At first he smiled, then suddenly shook it off, and looked around like he was guilty. She gave him a sad, pouty look...

And snapped back to reality. She could no longer handle these daydreams. They were torture to anyone else the memories would be a blessing. But so vivid, so real..the sunlight in her eyes, the breeze on her skin. Ilse rose and jumped, slamming her feet on the ground as hard as she could over and over until she was breathless.

She stopped, close to tears, heart thumping in her chest.

"You!" Ilse cried out into the night, rounding on the tree and pounding her fist once onto the trunk. It was a pain like none other, deeply etched into her soul, the backs of her eyelids. It was what she lived in, dreamed in, and it was too, too much. She collapsed to the ground, back to the tree, and reached her fingertips out towards the small handgun Ilse had buried in the brush. It was time to go, the same way he did. It was to honor him. One less pesky child to worry about, one more hole in the tree. A piece of her to be with him always.

This spot would become cursed. No one would be allowed in the woods again. Ilse sobbed harder as she drew the gun closer to her head. Would anyone even notice she was gone? Would they ask, Where is Ilse? I haven t seen her in hours! . Days. A week. The barrel was in her mouth now. Resting in between her teeth. No one would miss her. One hand was in her hair, grabbing it with such force it made her eyes water. Ilse cocked it and threw her back fiercely against the tree, scraping her back on the bark. She was an outcast. No better than Melchior Gabor was now, a demon, a germ, a disease. This was for him, her love, Moritz. With a calming breath, her sobbing ceased and she looked up into the dark sky. Ilse closed her lips around the barrel and squeezed her eyes shut. The time was now. She spoke through the barrel.

"I love you."

And pulled.


	3. Come Down

"Ilse…Ilse!' Thea bounded toward Ilse, her school books still clutched tightly in her arms. Ilse turned to her name, face solemn and cold.

"Ilse! Wendla was not in school today..not at all. Where is she? With Melchior Gabor?"

Ilse shook her head slowly, and her eyes drifted upward, towards the sign. Cemetary. Thea followed her gaze and gasped.

"No!"

Ilse nodded her head.

"No!' Thea crashed through the gates of the cemetery, and to the freshest grave, black dirt piled on top. Tears poured down her face, and Ilse came to kneel next to her, and handed her a note. From Melchior, to Wendla. Thea read in silence and looked up to Ilse.

"Oh, Melchi Gabor…Does he know?"

At that, Ilse's eyes began to tear up.

"No. I fetched it from him last night, to deliver to Wendla this morning. But when I went there was a preacher. Everyone in black. It was a nightmare, reminded me of…before."

"Two in one Summer. What a tragedy." They stared at each other for a bit, before Thea lunged forward and laid her head in Ilse's lap, sobbing. Ilse bent her neck forward, eyes and face in pain, but never making a sound.

"Thea..Ilse?"

Anna's voice rang out in the street behind them. Thea leapt up and ran to her friends, Martha hanging back, staring up at the cemetery sign.

"Is Wendla with him? Are they together?" Anna grinned at Thea, grasping her forearms with joy. But the red rims of Thea's eyes and the streaks of tears down her cheeks told a different story.

"What's wrong, are you okay?" Anna's smile faded as she searched her friend's face. Ilse followed Thea to the street and locked eyes with Martha. Ilse shook her head and Martha's eyes welled up.

"Is it Wendla?"

Martha stepped forward, hands wringing, and Anna stared back at her, then turned her gaze unwillingly to Ilse. Ilse stuck her hand out for Martha to hold, and Thea supported Anna to the grave. All four erupted into tears, clinging to each other for dear life. Thea pulled away from the group to inch over to a grave, just starting to grow thick green grass over it.

"This is unbelievable." Thea wiped her sleeve across her face, then over the block of stone marking the place. "This is terrible."

The other three girls looked up at her, and Thea handed the folded note to Anna, whose lips silently mouthed words, Martha reading over her shoulder. The tears ceased between all as the gravity of the situation sunk in.

"Moritz…Wendla. Our best friend." Martha scooted over to Thea, and laid a hand on each of the grave stones.

"Well…should we tell Melchior? Contact him, go to the reformatory?" Anna turned to Ilse, searching.

"He's gone, he's already here. Melchior's been running for days…I don't know where we could find him." Ilse looked defeated as she broke the news.

"How long before the whole town hears the whisper?" Thea questioned to her friends.

"Depends on who we tell, I suppose." Ilse stared at the ground, swirling her finger in the dirt.

"No one. We won't tell anyone at all." Martha took her hands from the stones and placed them palm down on the cool earth. "Promise?"

Everyone nodded simultaneously.

"Anemia. Who would have thought?"

Ilse scoffed. "Yeah. Anemia." Ilse stood with a start and walked a few paces away from the girls.

"Ilse?" The others stood and watched her. Ilse stopped her pacing and looked up.

"I'm fine..this…this just is not how it's supposed to be. So wrong. So wrong!" Ilse kicked at a tree trunk.

"I know...this small town has been through too much. And think of Melchior…he doesn't even know. What a shock he'll have..tonight." Thea dropped to her knees again to run her fingers over Wendla's name etched in stone.

"Poor Melchior."

Anna dropped down next to Thea.

"Poor Wendla."


	4. Like You Have A Clue

"Class dismissed."

Moritz snapped out of his daydream and gathered his books, tugging up a sock as he went. Georg whacked Moritz in the arm with one of his schoolbooks, only to be warded off by Melchior Gabor, who clapped an arm on Moritz's shoulder. Georg gave him a hard look, but silently turned away with Otto, who turned their abuse to Hanschen.

"Okay, Moritz. Shall we begin with Greek and end with Latin?"

"I am afraid I cannot today—"

"We can stop at the bakery on the way home, grab a sweet! Then begin with the Greek…certainly, the conjugations need conjugating."

Melchior nudged Moritz along eagerly, pushing open the door and bursting out into the sunlight of early Spring. Melchior babbled on as Moritz fell back into his daze, making no attempt at cutting him off.

"Ending with Latin vocabulary will leave you just enough time to go back home for dinner, hm?"

A giant grin grew on Moritz's face, and he stopped in his tracks, turning to face his long-time friend.

"I am afraid I cannot focus on my studies today. Something glorious has happened, Melchi!"

Melchior's face fell and he reached out to grasp Moritz's shoulder.

"Oh?"

His ideas of studying were a thing of the past as Moritz spoke.

"Yes, Melchi, something glorious, I tell you!" With a jerk he turned and continued to walk towards home, Melchior trotting behind him to keep up.

"Well, tell me, Moritz!"

"A girl. A girl! A wonderful girl has asked if I would like to take a walk tonight. And I think I shall." His grin held steady, but Melchior's face held traces of concern.

"Who then? Martha Bessel? Not Wendla Bergmann?"

"Not Wendla. Not Martha!" Moritz halted again to look at Melchior. "A girl of mystery, and wonder. And spontaneity! A walk, I do not know where we will walk, but we will walk!"

Melchior stared down at him, eyebrows knit together.

"Who then, Moritz?" His tone was stern and questioning.

Moritz flung his arms out, then flapped them down awkwardly at his sides, smiling manically.

"Ilse."

Melchior breathed in heavily, letting his head fall to the side, his hands up to rub his temples.

"Moritz—"

In the square, the clock tower rung two o'clock, Moritz listened intently for the clangs of the hour, and stuck his hand out to Melchior, shaking it fiercely.

"I am already late, Melchi! I shall retell the tale for you at a later date!"

And he was off, leaving Melchior behind him, mouth gaping, forming words that he could not bare to speak to his best friend of so long. Alone now, marching quickly to the park, Moritz stopped only to look at his reflection in a store front. A hand through his hair was all he needed before he made a turn, a grin pasted goofily to his face. His breathing heightened as he rounded the corner once again, and there she was.

"Ilse!"

Moritz walked a few paces and knelt to the ground, putting his knuckles against her cheek. Cool and damp. He smiled. She didn't say a word back, just stared, eyes glinting with a grin. Moritz blushed and took his hand away. He longed for these fleeting moments. Where it was just her and him. He felt special, weightless, and he knew for a fact the smile wouldn't leave his face for days.

He didn't like to share these secret meetings with anyone else, only her.

"Moritz…"

Moritz looked up, a dazed smile on his face. Melchior stood by the street, a sad expression stressing his features. Moritz rose and looked down at Ilse, apologetically.

"Sorry, Ilse…What do you want, Melchi?"

Melchior took the few steps forward to stand next to his friend. Moritz backed up, carefully watching his feet step over the ground.

"Who are you talking to, Moritz?" Melchior knew the answer, but he had to ask it every time. Moritz looked up at him, features falling sadly, a mild realization coming about. Moritz stirred, confused, eyes becoming slightly moist.

"I was…" He gestured lamely to the ground, eyes gazing over the cold, damp earth, looking for his best friend who has been sitting at his feet moments ago.

"She was here, this time."

Melchior followed his gaze and knelt down, wiping grass and dirt off of a slab of stone. Moritz looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

"I…I miss her, Melchi." His voice was heavy. "She must be so…cold. Outside here…" Moritz's labored speech turned to heaving sobs, and instantly Melchior rose, grabbing Moritz into an embrace.

"I cannot leave her." Moritz pushed Melchior back and got on all fours, clawing at the dirt and grass, fingernails scraping away the hard, caked layer. Melchior knelt down, watching the horrific scene, and he reached out to grab one of Moritz's hands.

"You can't save her, Moritz."

The other hand still tried desperately to uncover his friend.

"Moritz, no! She's gone! Ilse is gone!" Melchior grabbed his other hand, and sighed as Moritz once again collapsed into his arms.

"She's dead, Moritz. Two years….Look at me."

Moritz slowly brought his head up to meet Melchior's eyes.

"No, Melchi. Ilse will not be gone while I am still here…she is in me. All of me."

Melchior nodded and searched his eyes, still wet.

"I know, Moritz. I know."


	5. Everything You Do

A soft breeze blew over the meadow. It was silent, in the most calming of ways. And it was amazing how the morning turned the sky into a collage of colors. The early Autumn day brought out three old friends. A single blanket spread out for them to lay on, gazing up like they had so many years ago. Like schoolgirls.

"Anna, I cannot _believe_ it." Thea propped her chin up onto her hand, instantly fourteen years old again.

"Well, _do_, Thea. She's in there." Anna rubbed her belly, a huge smile on her face.

"The wedding was beautiful." Martha leaned up on her elbow, on the opposite side of Thea. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a slick ponytail. Her face already showing the stress on her short life, a deep line cut into her forehead.

"It was." Anna sat up. "Wasn't it?"

The two nodded in return, smiling. They all laid back down , watching the sun rise slowly in a comfortable silence. Thea reached down and squeezed Anna's hand, her best friend of so many years.

"You have love. Otto loves you so, Anna."

She sighed happily, nodding.

"He does. And he shall love her, too." Anna rubbed a hand over her still flat stomach.

"Her?" Martha called over, and they all sat up again in excitement.

Anna waved her hands at them, calming the anxious smiles.

"Well, I won't know, of course. But I hope."

Martha got to her feet.

"I have to go. I have to catch the earliest train to Berlin. I have class tonight."

Thea hopped to her feet, offering a hand to Anna, pulling her up.

"We'll walk with you." Thea tucked the blanket under her arm, and linked her free elbow through Martha's, Anna on her other side. "You and your scholarly advances, Martha Bessel." She giggled light-heartedly. Martha wacked her with a book she had been carrying in her bag.

The trio began their short hike to the train station, arm in arm.

"Tell me, Anna. Will you tell her? Everything?" Thea questioned quietly, the lingering memory of their old friend still at the back of her mind.

Anna stared straight ahead, lips pursed.

"Everything?" She turned her head to Thea, who nodded back, wide-eyed and curious.

"In time, I suppose." Anna pulled her friends closer to her body, tightening her elbows up. "No need to rush. She will know, though, I promise."

"Everything."

"Leave nothing out."

Thea prodded her in the side, smiling

"I promise, I promise! My little girl will know everything she needs to know."

Martha reached and patted Anna's stomach.

"Does this little girl have a name yet?"

Anna stopped in the middle of the street, guiding her friends to form a little circle around her.

"She does." She unlinked her arms and proudly rested her hands on her belly. "Little Wendla."

Huge smiles grew on Thea's and Martha's faces and both excitedly threw their arms around Anna.

"It's beautiful!" Thea cried out, leaning her head on Anna's shoulder.

"It's perfect. Absolutely perfect." Martha re-looped her arms through her friends', gazing longingly ahead.

"It'll be such a sight. And when the time comes, I will name my baby girl Ilse!" Thea spun in a circle before latching back onto the chain, her heart thumping from the ideas of the future.

"All three of our beautiful girls will be the best of friends, just like us. Wendla, Ilse, and…Martha, what will you name your baby girl?"

Martha shrugged and looked down at her toes, the train station in sight.

"I do not wish to have a baby girl. I would prefer a boy. One who can grow up strong, and proud, and who can play with his father every day."

"That is beautiful, Martha." Thea offered, before the calm and silence took over their final steps to Martha's train, already waiting in the station. They halted, and Martha broke free of the grasp and turned to face the other girls. She heaved a sad sigh and smiled, moving forward again to grab them both into huge hugs.

"Congratulations, Anna. I'll be back as soon as possible. I don't want to miss a thing." Martha turned to board the train, leaving Anna and Thea waving after her, still embraced in a hug. They scurried away, throwing the blanket over their shoulders as they went.

"Well, baby Wendla and baby Ilse will be the best of friends. And little Mr. baby Martha will be the little boy that teases them during church service." Thea noted, matter of factly as they turned down Anna's new street, with her quaint little house. "But Anna, what do you think she will name him?"

Anna squeezed her friends hand as they came to rest outside her door.

"I think I have an idea."


End file.
